The Musings of

Something full of magic, religion, bullsh*t.

Wednesday, December 15, 2004

Shame on me

I was robbed yesterday. I live in a urban, residential loft building with security-coded outer doors. While Mrs. C and I were at work, some member of the criminal class gained access to our hallway, and somehow entered our loft. The thing is, the door he came through was one we don't often use, and we are generally sure to lock. I remember looking to verify that the door was locked before I left that morning, but I couldn't swear to it.

Whatever the case, the jackass got in and liberated Mrs. C's jewelry and my computer, digital camera, and the scanner/printer thing. Oh, and he got about $10 in change. All in all, it's not very interesting. Due to the layout of the loft, we didn't even realize we'd been taken until after 10:00 last night. Considering the time of discovery and the fact that we really didn't lose all that much (the camera was already broken and the only expensive jewelry taken was a pearl necklace (I hear what you're thinking, perverts)), I made an executive decision not to call the cops. The odds of actually catching the bastard and getting the stuff back are likely nil, and having to stay up till midnight to make a report just blows.

The interesting thing isn't what was taken, but how Mrs. C and I are responding emotionally to the invasion. Her reaction has been, I believe, typical for a woman -- and I don't mean that in a sexist way. She is upset at the loss of her jewelry and some things on the hard drive, but mostly she is bothered by the fact that someone had the temerity to enter our loft. She has been made aware that our sanctum isn't so secure, and now she feels unsafe, paranoid, and a bit violated. I believe her reaction is normal and would feel the same were I in her shoes, yet it is not completely, well, rational. Having been bitten once, she now believes the world is full of snakes. Of course, her perception is colored by the perceived magnitude of the potential harm (especially since she is a petite woman and the invader was almost assuredly a man or men) and not the odds of said have reoccuring. Risk is a funny thing, and it is difficult to measure when you are emotionally involved with the outcome.

On the other hand, I would have predicted that I would respond with anger and frustration, but the feeling I'm getting is more fatalistic. When I made the decision to move to my neighborhood, I recognized that I lived in a higher crime area and accepted that there was some risk involved. As a good conservative, I naturally assume evil abounds. Therefore, I must also assume that if I leave a something on the hood of my car, it will be stolen. Continuing the logic, if I know men are evil, yet I carelessly leave them an opening, then I can't very well cry about it if they take advantage of my laxness. Put another way, my negligence contributed to the final bad act -- it doesn't absolve him by any means, but it has forced me to not bitch about it. Not surprisingly, I feel that if the robber had, say, broken a window to gain entrance, then that would be another matter -- I would have fulfilled my minimum obligation (locking the window) and would have every right to be mad at the robber for taking the unnecessary step of breaking into my home.

Of course, had I been in the place yesterday I would have shot the bastard -- but that is the risk HE must accept.

Centinel 2:31 PM #


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